Postcard from Australia 7: The joys of squidding

Postcard from Australia 7: The joys of squidding

Emily O Hare from the River Cafe is the winner of the James Busby Travel and Imbibe Sommelier 'Blog your way Down Under" competition

Three big men and their boats met us at the reception of our motel to take us out to sea. The men were Joch Bosworth, winemaker for Battle of Bosworth and his two friends – Ian and Carl.

We 5 wine tourists were a little worse for wear. I had turned green. The remedy was not my usual hot water, lemon and a lie down, but a ride on a speed boat, a can of Bundys (rum and coke) and a snickers. To catch a squid you simply throw a line weighted with a colourful looking plastic prawn into the sea, and wait for the squid to get involved. When it does, you pull it in, it shoots black ink at your face (quite rightly) and then one of the big men does something to it to make it less excitable and then it gets popped in the freezer bag next to the bundys.

I caught the first squid of the day. It would also be my last. Fortunately everyone else did very well and we returned home with over 30 squid. We would see the big men and the squid later. After washing the ink off my face, I joined the group on the mini bus: we were off to d’Arenberg for tasting a lunch.

We were shown around the vineyards and estate by fourth generation winemaker, Chester Osborn. D’Arenberg owns 500 acres, plants 30 varieties and makes 47 different wines (next year it will be 60). It is a big operation that feels small. The wines have personality, perhaps because in the vineyard they are allowed such freedom – Chester tells us he does nothing in the vineyard – no fertilising, no trimming, he just “prunes and picks”.

The winery is enormous – but everything is done on a small scale – ALL the grapes are foot trodden in open fermenters and basket pressed in one of the ten 160 yr old French basket presses. We sit down to taste through some of the d’Arenberg range. Before the wines are even poured things are getting colourful. The wines have names like “The Wild Pixie”, “Sticks and Stones” and “The Lucky Lizard” (named after the lizard that fell into the wine crusher, but fortunately escaped alive because the crush is so gentle). When asked how he comes up with the names for his wines Chester replied “never before 2 a.m”. My notes again read as though I might be describing a red Bandol or a Ligurian white. What I was smelling and tasting were aromas, flavours and textures that I would not, before this trip, have ever associated with Australia.

Lunch followed and we were accompanied by the MD - Chester’s dad, d’Arry. D’Arry joined the family business in 1943 at the age of 16, and in 2008 completed his 63rd consecutive vintage. Lunch was a spectacular affair, yes, another one. We sat on the verandah, looking out over the vale and ate deep fried olives stuffed with almonds and drank The Dry Dam Riesling 11, before moving on to three single vineyard Shirazes The Fruit Bat, Little Venice and The Eight Iron. Full on, full bodied reds as fresh as our morning at sea, with waves of fruit and spice that persisted forever on the palate and tannins that rolled over the tongue and up around the gums, simultaneously drying and refreshing.

There shouldn’t have been any space left in our bellies for the freshly fried and grilled squid that awaited us at Joch’s, home to the Battle of Bosworth vineyard and winery. But great wine always seems to liven the appetite, and we tucked into the squid we had caught that morning after tasting through Joch’s wines.

BOB’s wines are “organically grown and traditionally vinified”. The vineyards are so lush, there is something energizing about just walking through them. Vine leaves jut out like green jazz hands and shimmy in the air. This energy is present too in the wines. They are extremely drinkable, the 2011 Shiraz is the kind of wine I could drink everyday, violetty and sweet on the nose, crunchy cranberry and blackberry on the palate. The Cabernet ‘11’, smelt of fresh coffee and red fruit and tasted of black fruit and salted caramel. The palate was invigorating - as uplifting as the jazz the leaves seemed to be shimmying to.

The most interesting wine for me though was the Wild Boar 2009. It is a wine inspired by Italy’s Amarone. The wine is made from dried grapes – in this case, Cabernet Sauvignon and Shiraz, and instead of being picked when ripe and then laid on mats to dry, Joch cuts the canes of the vines to prevent further ripening and leaves the grapes to raisin on the vine. They are then hand picked before a long, slow fermentation. The wine is intense and concentrated, but not overwhelmingly so, flavours, like it’s Italian inspiration are complex and layered, the finish is long.

On to Paxton. Paxton converted to biodynamic farming in 2005, the senior viticulturist Daniel Lavrencic tells us that this method of farming allows him to produce and showcase the region’s fruit quality, varietal expression and natural diversity. Winemaker Michael Paxton whispered that viniculture can sometimes be seen as the “dark side” by viticulturists – they see their carefully tended fruit disappear into this “black hole” (the winery) where there is the danger that the ego of the winemaker may overwhelm the character of the fruit. Michael, however appeared in such awe of his healthy vineyards and so respectful of Daniel’s work that I cannot imagine he lets his ego anywhere near the fruit.

We tried Paxton’s Single vineyard Chardonnays, the 04, 05, 09 and 10. They all had this Cashew aroma and subtle flavour that I now associate with great Aussie whites. I really enjoyed the 05 – it was broad and warm and sensual, the oak sensitively worked in, the palate had flavours of apples (wearing lemon skin), and a tantalizing salinity, a reminder of the sea and its influence out to the West.

Next, some single vineyard Shiraz “Quandong Farm”. I was getting into it by this stage – my notes took a turn for the worst. The 07 QF was so flowery and leathery, one sniff and I was suddenly on the back of a bike, nose pressed into the back of a Hells Angel, his leather jacket warm and worn, on his head a helmet of fresh flowers. Unlikely I know, and unsafe too – a flower helmet offers no protection, but it was curious, this wine. Fruity on the nose, earthy in the mouth, savoury and sweet, with a dry tannic finish.

The 09 was much more feminine, red fruits – cherries and blackberries, elegant and fresh. The 10 got all dark and brooding again, my nose back in the bikers jacket.

The Jones Block Shiraz was pretty special: a tiny selection of grapes from the 100 year old vines. We tried the 02 and 05. The 02 is another wine to take to Space, it has all the astronaut needs – fruit and coffee on the nose, meaty and rich on the palate – fine tannins, dark, dusty cocoa on the finish - a meal in a bottle. The 05 felt lighter, leaner with notes of eucalypt, and liquorice, with that bloody lip iron’y character I rather enjoy. It didn’t have quite the intrigue of the 02, but maybe it just needs time to itself in bottle.

So the McLaren, wines that are big and broad, with real presence. Wines that stand in front of the sun and revel in its rays, but too enjoy, and depend upon, the shadows their great, beautifully balanced bodies cast. Wines thriving on the tension between light and dark…or if you prefer, Hells angels wearing violet helmets.